The Formative Years
by asth3nia
Summary: Having just resturned to the Cirque Du Freak, tension and tempers are high between Larten and Darren. One mistaken angry wish, a crescent moon and a touch of destiny, leaves Larten Crepsley 16 years old once more. RxR
1. The Crimson Crescent Moon

**The Formative Years**

_A Larten Crepsley De-aging Story_

_by asth3nia_

_~*~Having just arrived back at the Cirque Du Freak, Darren Shan has had enough of his mentors babying and nagging. In a rage, he wishes Larten was a teenager once more, so that he too could suffer the dreaded faith of pimples, young love and testosterone. What Darren didn't know, was that on that particular night, a red crescent moon shone and Destiny lurked on the horizon. ~*~_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Darren Shan, nor do I own any of the characters. Any of the names, plots, themes or characters which occur in this FanFiction that are familiar belong to the author of the Darren Shan Saga - Darren O Shaughnessy . This is just a work of FanFiction._

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_Chapter One: The Crimson Crescent Moon_

It had been a long journey. Flitting across 3 states had brought a wave of exhaustion over both vampires. The night was silent, almost deadly. A map of stars lay above the country side, twinkling brightly and nestled between an unknown constellation, lay a red crescent moon. Darren traced the outline with his eyes, gazing mesmerized at the blood red tips. Moons, alongside spiders had always fascinated him. He was amazed at how something so far away could light the darkest corners of earth. He wondered what would happen if the moon suddenly vanished, just left the view of earth and orbited another planet. His eyes flicked to the horizon, just above a hillside in the distance. A purple haze, almost like a foggy mist lurked on the horizon.

"Darren!" his mentor snapped, spinning on his heels and glaring down at him. Darren looked back perplexed. "You have been insufferably negligent this past hour."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Negligent - day dreaming, at an intolerable rate. You have trodden on the back of my heels twice since we walked over that hill." Larten snapped.

Darren glared up at him. His brown eyes met the green orbs of his mentor and he scowled. "You know, you're not as pleasant as you make yourself out to be either, Mr Crepsley. You've done nothing but snap at me for the last few miles and you've been constantly nagging me about drinking blood!"

A thin smirk cracked Larten's lips. His long fingers made their war to his coat ruffles and he tugged on them conceitedly. "Ah, now I understand. Perhaps it's the lack of blood in your system that is cause for your teenage mood swings. I've known children to be quite -"

"I'm not a child! Quite calling me that."

Darren stormed around the tall figure of Mr. Crepsley and marched across the bridge and through the Cirque entrance. He could hear the large strides of his mentor behind him and could feel his eyes on the back of his neck. Annoyance bubbled in the depths of his stomach. He was sick of hearing about blood, vampires and teenagers. Mr. Crepsley used that excuse every time, teenagers this, teenagers that. Darren clenched his fingers. He wasn't concerned about the looks he received from the other Cirque members. He preferred they knew of his annoyance and secretly, he hoped someone would ask him why he was now muttering angrily to himself, that way he'd let them all know about Mr. Crepsley.

"You're the insufferable one!" he snapped, ripping the door to his and Evra's tent open and slamming it in Larten's face.

He flopped onto his bed and rolled over to face the window. From there he could see the red figure of Larten striding across the camp, and into his own tent. Darren closed his eyes. He was tired and his legs were sore. Despite being carried on Mr. Crepsley's back while flitting, his muscles were still sore having been tensed for so long on the vampires hips. Things had been on edge between himself and Mr. Crepsley the past few days. They had just returned from a journey to meet an old friend of Larten's; Gavner Purl, from what Darren can remember. He was a nice vampire, very cheery, he even offered Darren a pint of larger. He would have accepted to if it weren't for Mr. Crepsley forbidding it.

Scowling again he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Loneliness, Mr. Crepsley had said, would be a trait of the future and with time Darren would adapt, he would learn to treasure the moments. But now more than ever, Darren felt that loneliness was becoming a fear and it was quickly growing in strength. Despite having the company of Mr. Crepsley, he couldn't adapt. He was angry, frustrated and more than anything, scared. Scared of the future, scared of the present, scared of everyone and everything. He missed friends, fun, family. He missed normality. Staring up at the coloured ceiling, his eyes grew heavy and he yawned.

****0

Larten downed a tumbler of blood in one quick swig. Smacking his lips, he gasped happily and leaned back into the couch of pillows. Stretching, he wrapped an arm around Madame Truskas shoulders. She moved away.

"What's the matter?" he asked, in a deep voice. His ginger curls flopped in front of his eyes, casting a shadow over his eyes.

"The way you treated Darren," Madame Truska replied, moving to the edge of the couch. "Larten he is just a boy! How could you be so insensitive?"

"Vampires aren't sensitive, we do not thrive on emotions. The sooner Darren realises that, the easier things will be for him. Do you know he spent the last two days sulking on my back? It was like carrying a growth, very unpleasant."

Madame Truska scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Larten think back to when you were a boy. Remember how awkward it was. He is just being a normal teenager boy."

Larten scowled, pushing himself up from the couch. "That is exactly it!" he snapped. "He is not a normal boy. He is a vampire."

"Half-vampire."

"Half insane. Truska, darling, I am 170 years old. My teenage years ended 150 years ago, in an era where patience and tolerance were placed at the end of the scale of importance."

Madam Truskas turned her back on him. "Go speak with him Larten."

"I'm not babying him."

"You treat him like a baby, why not live up to it!"

Larten sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had only been awake for 4 and a half hours and already, he could feel a migraine developing. It was rare he suffered migraines, but they were becoming more frequent the past few weeks. Between the tension with Darren, the stress of avoiding Mr. Tiny and now having Truska down his throat, he felt like crawling back into his coffin was a far better idea.

"I will speak with Darren."

"When?" Truska demanded crossing her arms and turning to face him.

Larten smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Tomorrow."

"Now."

"Tomorrow."

"Larten."

"Now."

He turned round and swept out of the tent, his crimson coat cracking the air as he turned. Crossing the camp, he nodded courteously to the other members, smiling politely, like Larten Crepsley does when making an impression. He paused outside the tent and cleared his throat.

"Darren." he called. There was no reply. "Darren!"

Pushing the door open, he barged into the room, banging the door loudly against the tents support poles. Darren grunted from the bed and leapt out of it. He stared toward Larten, gasping loudly.

"Mr. Crepsley?"

"We're talking. Sit." he commanded, pointing to the bed.

Darren sat. He stared up at Mr. Crepsley. The Vampires face was twisted into a mixture of annoyance and frustration. Darren frowned.

"As of late, things between us have been rigid. It should not be that way, Darren. I am your teacher and you are my student. It is my responsibility to care for you and ensure you receive as much experience as possible. I cannot do that when you refuse to accept it."

"I refuse? You constantly nag me! I don't refuse anything Crepsley, I go along with all your schemes. You put me through a crazy amount of hours hitting trees and running into walls. I'm trying and you don't recognise it!"

"Darren Shan I blooded you because you had potential!" Larten snapped, banging his fists against a table. "I did not blood you for pleasure, power or my own personal profit. You didn't just accidentally fall into my arms boy, everyone has a destiny. You are mine."

Darren growled. "You're impossible! It's always about you. Why don't you ever consider anyone else?"

Larten grabbed Darren by the shoulders and stared hard into his eyes. "Listen to me boy-"

"I hate you." Darren hissed, snarling lightly and baring his teeth. "I hate you and everything about you and I just wish you could understand what its like to be like me!"

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_Welcome to chapter one of **The Formative Years **- A Larten Crepsley De-aging story. I hope you subscribe and review and come back for more. Let me know what you think. See you all in Chapter Two._

_- asth3nia_


	2. A Touch of Destiny

**The Formative Years**

_A Larten Crepsley Deaging Story_

~*~Having just arrived back at the Cirque Du Freak, Darren Shan has had enough of his mentors babying. In a rage, he wishes Larten was a teenager once more, so that he too could suffer the dreaded faith of pimples, young love and testosterone. What Darren didn't know, was that on that particular night, a red crescent moon shone and Destiny lurked on the horizon. ~*~

_Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Darren Shan, nor do I own any of the characters. Anything names, plots, themes or characters which occur in this FanFiction belong to the author of the Darren Shan Saga - Darren O Shaughnessy This is just a work of FanFiction._

Thank you to **Wolf Seeker **and **Mayo2198 **for adding this story to alerts and favourites.

Thank you to **The-ice-cold-alchemist, ferretgirlsz, yukiislikesnow, jumpingbean480 **for reviewing this story.

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_Chapter Two: A Touch of Destiny_

Larten stormed across the camp. His temper had flared and he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. His fingers clenched dramatically at his sides and small snarling noises, noises that possibly reminded the other Cirque members of the Little People eating, echoed from deep within his throat.

He could not believe the audacity of Darren. After all he had done for him; fed him, educated him, kept him safe, ran the length of the country for him when he was to weak to move himself from lack of blood; after all of that, the boy throws it back in his face.

He came to a stop outside his trailer and leaned against the door frame. His temples throbbed annoyingly. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Larten breathed deeply, lifting his shoulders high into the air and dropping them slowly. When he was younger, which was an alarmingly 150 or so years ago, he used to hit trees or bang sticks against them to help relieve any pent up frustration. But now he felt silly. Here he was, 170 years old, mature and grown and he couldn't control the frustration a 16 year old caused him. He scoffed at himself and pushed the door open, causing the candle flame to flicker and cast his wild shadow across the wall.

Pouring himself a tumbler of blood, he sat on top of the old wooden table settled in the darkest corner of the room. He sipped the blood and swirled it around his mouth, as if tasting wine. It was a familiar tasting sample, probably belonging to one of the freaks. They were generous when his supplies ran low, Cormac Limbs especially. He donated a finger or two to Larten every few months.

It has been a long few months with Darren. The boy wasn't adjusting very well to the life of a vampire. He regularly slipped from happiness and being a really chatty person, to withdrawing into himself and preferring to tag a few feet behind Larten. That made the old vampire scowl every time. He didn't like people avoiding him, it meant they were either scared of him or didn't like him. Despite having a fearsome reputation amongst the Cirque and vampire community, of which he secretly adored, yet deep down, he didn't want people to turn away in fear. He rather enjoyed company, talk and laughter. And if he were to be completely honest, he liked the boy. Darren was a good kid and he made for even better company when he wasn't sulking or complaining.

There was a silent knock on the door when Larten was unbuttoning his shirt. He grunted a "Come in" and turned his back to the door, fumbling with the buttons. The door to the trailer creaked open and a deadly draft attacked his back. He shivered. The person entering stepped over the threshold and the trailer rocked gently. Larten turned. The face he met was one of malice, twisted into a devious smirk and if faces could produce words, Larten was sure that this certain face would read the word "Gotcha."

"Hello Crepsley, long time no see, don't you think?"

Larten's eyes narrowed. "What do you want Tiny?" he asked.

Mr Tiny cocked his eyebrows high on his brow and smiled, holding his hands out and shrugging. "Oh just a visit is all. I fear out ties have been severed, quite rudely by you. So I've had to come find you."

"You have got no business here Des Tiny, there are no problems to be resolved and we certainly do not want any problems to be caused."

Mr Tiny smiled. He clicked his fingers and the dark curtains blocking the window opened. The moon shone through, crossing Larten's face and highlighting his grotesque scars.

"Such a beautiful night, isn't it? Any particular reason you aren't wandering around the country side, flitting for helpless humanoids, refilling stocks; word has it that you've run low."

Larten stepped foreword out of the moon light. He was now uncomfortably close to Mr Tiny, far closer than he liked but he wasn't going to show his discomfort. One does not falter beneath the shadow of Desmond Tiny, weakness isn't a useful attribute in that mans company.

"I am preparing to head out," Larten said, motioning towards his red coat on the table.

"And the boy." It was more of a statement than a question.

Larten frowned. "What boy would that be? The only boy here is Evra, I hope you are not suggesting I bring along a snake boy with me."

Mr Tiny chuckled, his pearly teeth glistening in the moonlight. "Oh Larten, you never did fail to amuse me. Here I was thinking after such a long time we had become close friends. Isn't honesty something you value, Mr Crepsley?"

"What do you want Tiny. You have got no reason to be here, you are trespassing on Cirque grounds without good reason. And most importantly," and with this Larten clicked his fingers and his red coat appeared slung over his shoulder, "You are disturbing my hunt and I am hungry and I am now departing."

He stepped around Mr Tiny and made for the door, slinging himself into his coat. "I trust you know how to let yourself out," he said, then flitted out of the camp site, and across the open fields.

Mr Tiny smiled. He pulled his glasses from his bald head onto the tip of his nose and chuckling lightly, entering the trailer again. He picked up the empty tumbler Larten had drank from and swabbed the rim of the glass with a que tip. Flicking his trinket box open with a sharp click, he dropped the que tip into it and flicked it closed, tucking it back into his jacket. Helping himself to a grape that hung form the edge of a fruit bowl, he smiled.

**0**

Darren paused at the trailer door of Mr Crepsley's living area. He couldn't hear any noise coming from inside the trailer, not even when he pressed his ear to the door.

"Mr Crepsley?" he called, knocking on the glass. "Can I come in?"

There was no reply. Darren looked around him to make sure there was no one looking, and then opened the door a crack, slipping into the dark room. In the corner he saw Larten's coffin propped at an angle against the wall. Alongside it on the rickety old table was a glass tumbler. Darren could smell the remnants of blood in the glass and his mouth watered slightly. Shaking the lust for the crimson liquid that stained the inside of the glass, walked to the coffin and pressed his ear to the lid. He couldn't hear any breathing. It was empty.

Darren sat on a chair beside the table and stared at the floor. He didn't have anywhere to go; Evra was playing with his pet snake and he didn't know the other Cirque members very well. If Darren were to be honest with himself, he knew that the other members weren't keen on him being on their grounds. He wasn't a member of the Cirque and he wasn't even a proper freak. Instead he was a half vampire who spent the majority of his day sulking and hanging around with a 170 year old. He had come to Mr Crepsley's tent to apologise for his behaviour that night. He hadn't meant to say he hated him because he honestly didn't hate him. He was just frustrated and his temper got the best of him. Darren sighed and swung his legs on the chair. After waiting hopelessly for 5 minutes, he left the tent and headed back to his own. He kicked a few stones on the way, letting them fly through the air and hit against random tents.

"Darren." he heard someone call.

He turned and saw a large man, dressed in a dark suit with purple lining standing beneath a tree. Darren frowned. He had never seen him before. Darren couldn't help but smirk as the miniature fairy lights in the trees above the man sparkled on his bald head making it shine. The man smirked back and waved, flexing his fingers. He then turned and walked away behind a trailer.

Darren stared after the retreating figure, shrugged and continued walking back to his tent. He would apologise to Mr Crepsley tomorrow, once he was well rested and hopefully in a better mood.

**0**

Not far from the cirque, Larten stopped against a tree. He leant against it and wiped a dribble of sweat from his brow. His ginger hair flopped into his eyes. He had been flitting for no more than a half an hour when he had begun to feel tired. He concluded it was probably due to him having a belly full of fresh blood, so he sat on a stump next to the tree. His stomach groaned and with this Larten scowled. In all his years of being a vampire, he had only ever had one stomach ache from indulging in blood; it had been when he was newly blooded and feeling powerful and higher than any one in the world. His stomach growled again and Larten leant over, scowling down at his boots.

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_Thank you once again to all those that reviewed and subscribed. _

_This chapter is a bit all over the place, but it's really just a filler and introductory chapter. Do tell me what you think, what you'd like to see and so on. See you all in Chapter Three. _

_- asth3nia. _


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